


BRLFQ Spells Mum And Dad

by errantcomment



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:38:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/errantcomment/pseuds/errantcomment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gordon's always been a bully to his wife and son, putting them down and shouting abuse.</p><p>One day he goes a step further.</p><p>It's the first and last time Gordon hits Carolyn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this [prompt](http://cabinpres-fic.livejournal.com/1249.html?thread=1450977#t1450977).
> 
> Originally posted to the meme on LJ.

At age seven, Arthur's Dad shouts "You little shit!" and Arthur runs to his room. To make it up, his Dad buys him new toy cowboy. He doesn't have the same friendly face as Buck, but Dad doesn't smash the new cowboy. He even tries to play a little, but doesn't understand why the new cowboy doesn't play with Red and Sheep and the other toys in Arthur's room.

"I never see you with your new cowboy toy, sport. Where is it?"

"Oh... He's in my room Dad." That doesn't seem to be enough. "He's... He's brilliant." And Dad beams and ruffles his hair. Arthur hides the new cowboy in the bottom of his toybox.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur's doing his maths homework at the kitchen table. He's not very good at long division, and he's got his eleven-plus at the end of the year. Mum is cooking dinner. Arthur can tell Dad is in a bad mood by the way he slams the door. He stiffens, just a little, tightening his fingers round his Thomas the Tank Engine pencil and concentrating really hard on making the curve of a '5'. When the shouting starts approximately ten minutes later (when he comes home he expects dinner to be ready dammit) he puts down his pencil and slips out. In his room he hugs Sheep with his eyes tight shut till the front door slams again.

"Daddy's under a lot of pressure at the moment. He's working hard to buy lots of nice things for us," Mum tells him. She's sitting alone at the kitchen table. The house seems big and echo-y without Dad, who slammed out after all the shouting. Arthur makes his Mum a cup of tea. When he puts the mug down she holds his hand. Mum cries, holding onto Arthur's hand. Arthur doesn't get his homework done.


	3. Chapter 3

Dad bought himself an aeroplane just after Arthur's sixteenth birthday. He said he was going to buy a whole lot of them and make his own airline (but really he'll mainly use it for trips to Australia to watch 'proper' rugby) and to celebrate he invites all his friends (other big well up-holstered men with red faces) for a trip to Rome. Mum comes too, in a new dress. She's glowing, beautiful as she beams up at Dad and leans on his arm. So the plane takes off and that is brilliant, all the power and surprising agility. Arthur watches the ground disappear from underneath with a grin of delight even as his tummy lurches. People around him are lighting cigars and the pretty lady that Dad hired as a flight attendant hands out champagne. Then wine and beer, and whiskey that clung to the side of Arthur's glass like expensive liquid lace. Mum's tinkling social laugh hovers above the fug of expensive tobacco smoke. There's cheese and crackers and smoked salmon, tons of it. Dad roars with laughter and so do his friends. Over Switzerland Arthur gets a little woozy and sleepy but Dad hauls him up.

"Tell- Tell yer Uncle Bernie what- what y've been up to at school." his fingers are digging into Arthur's arm.

"We've," Arthur swallows and tries to focus on Uncle Bernie, who he's pretty sure he's never actually met. "We've been doing... Doing The Tempest..." His upper lip is sweating. His father's hand is still clamped round his arm and all he wants to do, all he wants is to lie down somewhere cool.

"Gordon, darling, I think-"

"Not now Carrie, the boy's speaking."

Arthur opens his mouth but instead of talking about Caliban or Ariel or even how he feels sorry for Prospero he sort of goes 'Hurk' and brings up something that was previously parma ham on little bits of toast. His Dad drops him and his friends all recoil. Mum rushes forward. "Oh, Arthur..." He claps a hand to his mouth which means the next heave sort of drips out from between his fingers onto his shirt and Mum drags him into the bathroom where he is the sickest he's been since he was eight and ate an entire Christmas selection of Quality Street. Mum rubs his back and gets him a glass of water and some tissues to blow his nose, although he can't change out of his shirt till they get to Rome. She helps him mop his face with cold water and leaves a damp towel on the back of his hot neck.

When they finally get to the hotel his Dad (who ignored him all the way from the Alps to the posh hotel) corners him in his room (he was so proud he had it all to himself as well) "You shamed me... You little bastard... I should have never have brought you... Puling brat..." The words rain down on Arthur, who can still smell the sick on his shirt and he can feel the start of headache at the base of his skull. He hunches, miserably. "Oh, get out of my sight," Dad finally spits, and Arthur flees into the bathroom, where he runs the shower as hot as he can.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur is watching telly in the front room when his Dad gets in, later than usual. He's staggering a little, it's Freemasons night. Arthur automatically sinks down into the sofa, hoping to avoid his Dad's attention. Mum looks up, cautiously. Things have been good recently. Arthur relaxes, just a bit.

"Arthur... Son. It's time we talked about what you're going to do with your life." Gordon snatches the remote off him and turns the telly off. Arthur tries to stay quiet. "Now, your results... Weren't the best... So I thought you could come and work for me! Start you off in on the ground floor. You can work your way up."

"Oh..." Arthur goes to form the word that he has, over the years, learned to bring up automatically "Bri--" Then he stops. Why not?

"Well, actually Dad, I don't want to work in an office," he says, and takes a deep breath. "I want to paint." Before Dad can say anything he rushes upstairs and drags down his sketchbook.

"Look, I thought I could make watercolours... You know, of stately homes. Or maybe portraits--" But his Dad grabs the book.

"What the hell is this?" He demands.

"It's- it's my paintings..." This was a bad idea. Definitely a bad idea.

"Is this what you've been doing? No wonder you failed all your A-levels! Wasting your time on this- this nonsense!" His Dad waves the book. The pages slap together and Arthur winces. "You little shit! Do you have any idea how much I paid for that fancy school of yours?" He throws the book hard into the fireplace where the flames lick up. "I'll teach you to play the damn fool..." He raises his hand and Arthur raises his arm protectively.

"Don't you dare touch him!" Mum springs up. "I've had enough of you Gordon, you and your infernal temper!"

"Don't try me Carrie..." Gordon turns, forgetting Arthur, breathing hard through his nose. "Don't even think about pushing me..."

"If he wants to paint, let him paint," Mum pushes on, not backing down. "He's good. I've seen it."

"Oh, you're on his side are you? There's a surprise. You're always sticking up for him, no wonder he's so weak." Dad's advancing on Mum now. "Should have disciplined him more... Well. No time like the present, is there? He can start on Monday. Proper work will do the boy good."

"He doesn't want to work for you, Gordon!" Mum says, bravely. "And I'm not surprised. Do you treat all your lackeys like this?"

"Like what?" Dad looks surprised.

"Bullying, overbearing, compensating, self-important bastard!" It seems like Mum has been waiting a long time to say what she's saying. Arthur's a little impressed. "Who surrounds himself with toadies and--"

Whatever she was about to say is cut off as his Dad hits Mum hard round the mouth and she staggers back into her chair clutching her cheek, which is already turning red.

"Don't you hit my Mum!" Arthur yells and suddenly he's standing over his Dad, who's fallen over the coffee table and is staring up at him. There's a cut on his eyebrow.

"Arthur!" His mother is also staring at him. He realises his knuckles hurt and he rubs them, dazed.

"I think you had better leave, Dad," he says, solemnly. His Dad puffs up.

"You dare kick me out of--"

"I do dare, Dad." Arthur advances and his Dad actually flinches. For the first time ever, Arthur actually realises that he's actually three inches taller than his Dad.

"Leave it, Gordon," Mum says. Dad glares at them both. "It's over. Just go."

They stay very still for a moment after the door bangs. Mum carefully reaches up and hugs Arthur hard. Arthur starts shivering and can't stop. Mum gives Arthur a rare hug and sits him on the sofa. They have tea in silence. There's nothing more to be said.


End file.
